Days in the Life of a 5 Year Old
by jesuisl0ser
Summary: Follow our 8 bohemians in their kindergarten year! Mark's POV. please R&R. FINAL CHAPTER IS UP! PLEASE R&R!
1. Marky's New Friends

**A/N: I BRING A NEW FIC! lmao! This was for Chaklenge #120 at the LJ community "speedrent". The prompt was to write any of our 8 bohemians in kindergarten. This was, obviously, a one-shot, but if you want me to continue it, just review and say so and I will. Also, if you want me to write more chapters, let me know if you want more characters in it. I'll find some way to incorperate them in. The focus right now is just on Mark, Roger, and Collins.**

**Please review. I don't get a lot of reviews. Please?**

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_MARK'S POV:_

Little Mark Cohen sat in the corner, playing with some building blocks. It was Share Time in Mrs.Tibbs' kindergarten classroom, but unfortunately for Mark, he wasn't sharing any toys with anyone because he had no one to play with. Sucking his thumb absentmindedly, he grabbed random blocks and formed various shapes and 'castles'.

It was Mark's first week in kindergarten. He had never been in a school before. Mrs. Cohen had been too overprotective to let her 'baby' go for preschool when he was four years old, and now that he was five, under her husband's order, she enrolled Mark in kindergarten. Poor Mark had been confused when he saw his mother standing there in the doorway of the classroom, crying, on his first day. He had adjusted to going to school even more quickly than his own mother had. But the one thing Mark hadn't quite gotten used to just yet was the fact that he was alone. At home, he and Cindy were always getting a huge amount of attention. Here, Mark observed, everyone went off playing with someone else, leaving him standing there in the corner, just as he was doing at the moment. He wished he had some friends to play with.  
As he knocked down his castle and began to make a new one, a ball rolled in his direction. Mark picked it up. A boy with spiked dirty-blonde hair and sparkling green eyes walked over to him, and stomped his foot.

"That's my ball. Give it to me," he said flatly. Mark straightened his glasses (which were much to big for his tiny head) and picked up the ball. Sure enough, in huge, sloppy letters on a side of the ball was a name: "ROGER DAVIS".

Mark handed the ball to the boy. "Here you go, Roger. That's your name, right?"

The boy nodded. He greedily grabbed the ball from him. "How come you don't play with nobody? You're...alone," Roger asked, staring at Mark.

"Um...I usually play here by myself 'cause...everyone always has someone else to play with," Mark replied, looking down at the blocks scattered on the floor.  
Roger sighed. "Well if you're not playin' with anyone then I guess you better come play with me and Tom."

"Tom?"

"You've been here a week and you still don't know nobody's name. Sheesh. Come on, I'll go show you who he is." Roger pulled on Mark's sleeve with one hand, holding the ball with the other. Mark followed Roger to the other side of the room, where he saw a darker-skinned boy wave at Roger. He had apparently been waiting for him.

"Hey Tom, Mark's gonna play with us," Roger said. He turned towards Mark. "Tom just turned _six_," he said, as if it were the most amazing thing in the world. Mark looked over at Tom, who walked over to him.

"Hi, Mark. You're the new kid, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Tom. You can call me that. Or Collins. Just don't call me Tommy, though. That makes me crazy!" Mark laughed. "So what were you guys playing?" he asked.

"Catch. Duh," Roger said, not noticing that Mrs. T was towering over him.

"Roger Davis! Don't talk like that to Mark! Now, you apologize," she snapped. Roger looked over at Mark blankly. "Sorry, Mark." When Mrs. T walked away, Roger rolled his eyes.

"Okay, so Mark, you stand in one corner. Tom, you stand in the other corner. I'll stand over here and we'll all throw the ball to each other. Anyone who drops it is out of the game."

"That's dumb," Tom said, "There's only three of us. The game would be really quick if we do it that way."

"Not if none of us drops it!" replied Roger, bouncing the ball up and down. "Ready? GO!"

Before he knew it, the ball was sent flying in Mark's direction. He caught it quickly, and then passed it to Tom, who threw it back to Roger. This pattern continued, and each time a new round started, the boys began to throw it faster. Just when Mark was about to throw the ball again, Mrs. T rang her bell and everyone went back to their seats.

At lunch time, Mark took a seat with Roger and Tom. He pulled out a peanut-butter sandwich and a juice box from his paper bag. He watched Roger pull out a sandwich too, and looked over at Tom who had a container of Captain Crunch. Mark stared.

"What?" he said. "Don't you eat Captain Crunch?"

"Yeah, but not for lunch..." Mark said quietly.

"All I eat is this stuff," replied Tom, stuffing a handful a cereal into his mouth. There was silence for a while, with the exception of the other children chattering. Breaking the silence, Roger slurped the last of his apple juice and said, "Hey Mark, how come your glasses are too big for your face?"

Mark blinked. "I dunno."

"They're really big."

"Oh come on, Roger, the glasses are cool," Tom said, studying them intently. Out of habit, Mark yet again straightened his glasses. "You think so?"

"Yeah! They're cool! Right, Rog?"

Roger shrugged. "Sure. Hey Mark, I'll trade you one of my crackers for one of those chips."  
"Okay..." The exchange was made, and as Roger munched on the chip he got from Mark, he said, "Now, aren't you glad you played with us instead of those dumb blocks?"

"Yep," Mark replied, smiling. "I like you guys."

"You're cool, too, Mark." A huge grin spread across Tom's face. He smiled a lot, Mark noticed.  
"Good," Roger said. He paused, and then leaned into the table with a devilish smirk on his face. "Have any of you guys tried puttin' glue on Mrs. T's chair?"

Both boys shook their heads.

"Well, I think I got an idea..."

Mark stared at Roger in awe. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what Roger was going to say next. But it didn't matter to him. He had two great friends now, and that was all he cared about.

"This'll probably send us right to the corner where the bad kids go, but it's all worth it. Okay, here's the plan..."

And that was how their lasting friendship began.

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**Like it? Hate it? Want more? R&R PLEASE!**


	2. Enter Maureen Johnson

**A/N: Wow! I didn't think you guys would like this story that much! Thank you all so much for the reviews! squeal Now I'm even more excited 'cause I'm going to see RENT on stage (the tour happened to be coming around my area)next month...ok, not in NY, but still. I've never seen the musical before. So I'm happy. **

Sorry for the semi-sophisticated language. See, my little cousin who just turned five is like, insanely smart and talks basically how they did. So, I should hang around more kindergartners...LOL! I did, in fact, plan on adding our favorite kiddie Maureen Johnson before you guys even suggested it so don't worry! She's in this chapter. Enjoy!

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"Marky, dear, come get your lunch! You're going to be late! Cindy's already in the car!" Mrs. Cohen chirped as her son emerged from his bedroom. "Mommy," he said, "Do I gotta to wear this?" Mark was wearing a striped shirt and black pants. 

"Well of course you do, dear. You have to look your best for school..." Mrs Cohen began to mess with Mark's hair for the umpteenth time that morning.

"But Roger and Tom wear jeans. Why do I need these pants? They're unconfunable."

"That's _uncomfortable_, Mark," corrected Mrs. Cohen. She handed him his paper bag lunch. "Now you head right out to the car this minute before your father leaves without you! Have a good day!" She rushed him out of the house, and before he knew it, Mark was on the bus headed for school.

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As he was walking into the schoolyard, Mark bumped into a girl with wavy dark hair. 

"HEY!" she shrieked. He recognized her, as she was one of his classmates. Having been in his kindergarten class for more than two weeks now, he remembered that her name was Maureen. Mark had never really gotten a chance to talk with the girl, but she was extremely loud in class and was sometimes sent to the "Bad Kids Corner".

"Hey, you bumped into me...Oh! Hi, Mark!" she said happily. Mark straightened his glasses. "Hi Maureen," he said. Maureen looked up at the sky. "It's a pretty day today," she said.

"Pretty?"

"Yeah! The sun is out and the sky's really blue. Don't ya think so?"

"Yeah..." Mark didn't really know what to say. His mind was on other things.

_Is Mommy going to make meatloaf again for supper tonight? I hope not..._

_...What if she makes me eat that broccoli stuff?_

"Mark?" Maureen's voice snapped Mark out of his thoughts. He looked at her. "Yeah?"

"How come you're wearin' that?"

Mark threw his lunch in his cubby and ran over to Roger and Tom, who were sitting in their usual spots at the round blue table.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi Mark..." Tom looked at Mark and studied him for a moment. "Mark, why are you wearin' those clothes?"

Roger laughed out loud, pointing. "Hahaha, you look like my daddy when he's gettin' ready to go to work."

"Is that bad?" Mark asked.

"Um, kinda. Nobody else is wearin any of that stuff," replied Roger.

"It's not that bad, Marky," Tom said as Mark's bottom lip began to quiver.

Before Mark could even think to reply, Mrs. Tibbs rang her big bell at her desk and said, "All right, children, take out your spelling workbooks, please!"

Everyone did as they were told, and as Mrs. Tibbs began to babble about the sounds of the letter 'g', Mark looked around the room. Roger was balancing his pencil on his nose. Tom was doodling in his workbook, Maureen was picking her nose. Various children were sucking their thumbs, humming, and indulging in many other pastimes until, at long last, Mrs. T stopped talking. Mark straightened his glasses once more and began to write in his notebook as his teacher instructed.

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At recess, Mark noticed that Maureen was by herself in the playground. That was quite unusual, for usually any student who happened to glance at Maureen in the schoolyard would find a crowd of both boys and girls around her. Maureen Johnson was quite popular amongst the kindergartners. 

"Hey, guys, look at Maureen. She's playin' by herself."

Roger blinked. "So?"

"So...maybe she could come an' play with us," Mark suggested. Tom shrugged and looked at Roger, who glanced over at Maureen. She was walking around by herself.

Tom thought for a moment. "But ain't she always with _someone_?"

"Well she's not right now!" Mark said. Roger looked at Mark. "You never talked to her before, Marky. How come you want her to come join us?"

Mark stared. "'Cause she's all alone, that's why!"

"Let's call her over, Rog. One person won't make a difference anyways, right?" Tom said. Before Roger could say anything, Tom screamed, "HEY, MAUREEEEEEEEEN!" Motioning for her to come over, Tom turned back to Roger. "Do you not like her or somethin'?" Roger shrugged. Maureen walked over to them. "Hi!" she chirped.

"Hi, Maureen, how come you were all alone?" Mark inquired. Maureen shrugged. "People are boring."

Mark was slightly confused by that last comment, and decided not to address it. "Want to play with us?"

Maureen smiled. "Sure! What are you guys playing?"

"We were gonna play tag," Tom said. Maureen clapped happily. "YAY!" she paused, and then casually walked over to Tom. "In that case...YOU'RE IT!"

At first Roger was a little miffed about Maureen joining their little group, but after a while, he was glad Tom had called her over. She could be loud and very annoying at times, but she was, as much as stubborn Roger Davis hated to admit it, really fun to play with all the same.

Mark was very happy. He'd made three new good friends in the matter of a couple of weeks. He felt like things couldn't be better.

Until he came home to meatloaf for dinner.


	3. Itsy Bitsy Spider

**A/N: I know you guys were begging me to include the rest of our favorite bohemians—kindergarten style—in this fic, but to be honest, I'm not quite sure how to incorporate them into the story. I mean, wouldn't it be extremely unlikely that all 8 of them went to the same kindergarten? If you have any ideas on how I could throw in the rest of the gang, let me know. For now, enjoy this chapter. REVIEW, PLEASE!

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Mark Cohen never, ever got in trouble.

Even when he was at home, Mark's behavior was practically perfect for his parents. He was the kid everyone wanted—smart, quiet, and obedient—unlike his sister, Cindy, who was loud and very wild. Even though he never intended it, Mark had become the teacher's pet of the kindergarten classroom.

Until, one day, Mark did something bad.

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Tom Collins stared at his best friend Roger Davis in utter disbelief.

"We're gonna _what_?"

"Are you deaf or somethin', Tom? I said we're gonna get the spider and put it in that cup on her desk over there." Roger pointed to the red coffee cup that belonged to Mrs. Tibbs. Mark blinked and looked over at Maureen, who was staring at the cup.

"What if the spider gets outta the cup?" She observed. Roger shook his head.

"It won't. I did this before."

Mark leaned over and whispered to Tom, "How does he know all this stuff?"

"Roger's got an older brother that teaches him everythin'. He's in third grade," Tom whispered back. Mark was still amazed at how much Roger knew about pulling pranks on teachers.

"But don't he ever get in trouble?" Mark asked.

"Lotsa times. On the first day of school when you weren't here yet, he got sent to the corner for drawin' on some papers that Mrs T was writin' on, and then—"

"Stop whispering," Roger whined, interrupting the conversation.

"Sorry," Mark said, looking down at the floor. Maureen was sucking her thumb nervously, glancing over at the teacher occasionally.

"Okay, so Maureen, you cry a lot so you can get Mrs. T away from the desk. Then, me and Tom are gonna grab the spider from that bag in my cubby." Roger looked towards Mark.

"Marky, you're quiet so you can stand on Mrs. T's chair and put the spider in the cup. Me and Tom'll get you up on the chair."

Mark's blue eyes widened. "Me? I don't wanna!" he protested. Roger nodded his head.

"You got to. You're the most quietest out of all of us. She won't _supspect_ you."

"Why're we doin' this anyway?" inquired Maureen. Roger shrugged. "It's a game."

"Well I don't like this game," said Mark, "I don't wanna play!"

"You're just a chicken, Mark!" Roger cried.

"I am _not_ a chicken!"

"Yes you are!"

Mark was not about to tolerate being called a _chicken_. That was where he drew the line.

"I'll do it. Just to show you I ain'ta chicken."

Roger smirked. "Okay."

"Does the spider bite?" asked Maureen.

"Nope, it don't. Tom and I found it outside in his backyard and I held it for a long time. It prob'ly would've bited me already if it bit," Roger replied. "Ready? Maureen, you start."

At that moment, things began happening all at once, and Mark felt dizzy. Maureen had gone over to the "Bookworm Corner" where all the books were stacked and grabbed a heavy one from the shelf. She gently placed it on her foot when Mrs. Tibbs wasn't looking, and began to cry randomly, pointing at the book that had "fallen" onto her foot.

Mark wondered how she could make herself cry like that. He himself had tried to do so when he wanted his father to get him some chocolate ice cream one day, but he didn't succeed.

He watched as Mrs. Tibbs ran over to Maureen, and saw Tom and Roger running over with a plastic bag in their hands. Mark stared. A fat brown spider was crawling inside the bag.

All Mark could think of was the nursery rhyme his mother would occasionally sing to him.

_The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout..._

Roger placed the spider in Mark's hands. He felt it crawling on his skin and jumped. Roger and Tom ran over to Mrs. T's chair and beckoned for Mark to follow.

_Down came the rain and washed the spider out..._

They helped him up onto the chair. "Do it!" Roger snapped.

_Out came the sun and dried up all the rain..._

Mark gently lifted the spider over the cup.

_And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again!_

With a loud _plop!_, the spider landed inside the cup. Mark stared down at it floating in the little bit of water that was left in the cup from when Mrs. T had drank from it last. He looked down, expecting his friends to be looking up at him with at least a little admiration from going all the way up to the desk to put the spider in. But they had fled back to their seats. Maureen had stopped crying. Mark gulped and slowly looked up to see Mrs. Tibbs glaring down at him. She had seen his every move. Mark straightened his glasses. He glanced towards his friends. Tom had a sympathetic look on his face, and Roger was looking down at some dried glue on his hands from when the children were using glue during Craft Time. Maureen was still sniffling from her dramatic act.

"Mark Cohen, I am very surprised at you! Now you march to the corner this minute!"

As Mark began to climb down from the chair, he saw the spider slowly emerging from the cup. Some girls in the classroom began to scream, and other children stared at it in amazement.

Tom sighed.

Roger looked around aimlessly.

Maureen sniffled.

And Mark was in very big trouble.


	4. New Kids

**A/N: I'd like to thank Starlight's Delight for all of those lovely ideas; and you're right, honey—I should be able to write the story however I want. So I am. Thanks! I'd also like to thank everyone who reviewed. I love when I get reviews. You guys rock. Because you all rock so much, two of the other bohemians will be added to the story in this chapter (HINT: one person is my favorite character in RENT...if you don't know me this isn't a very good hint. LMAO)! Enjoy. Read the entire story before looking at the other A/N at the end.

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It had been a full week since the spider incident, and throughout that past week Mark had listened to his parents lecture him for hours about something along the lines of "pear pressure." Mark didn't quite know what that was supposed to mean, but all he knew at this point was that he definitely wouldn't let Roger make him do something like that again.

Now, as he sat drawing a picture during Craft Time with Tom and Maureen sitting on his left and Roger on his right, all he could concentrate on was drawing a perfect airplane. His tongue was sticking out of his mouth slightly in concentration as he slowly drew the left wing with his blue crayon. Then the body of the plane with little windows on the sides. Then the right wing. It was the most perfect—

"What's that supposed to be? A bird?" Roger asked. Mark blinked, adjusting his glasses.

"It's a plane."

"Oh."

Mark continued drawing until he heard Mrs. T say, "All right, children, put your crayons down for a moment." Mark did as he was told. Roger took a piece of a red crayon and randomly stuffed it in his mouth.

"We're going to be getting two new students today! Now I want you all to be very nice and friendly, understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Tibbs," the class chirped.

"I hope the new kids are boys who can throw a ball good," Roger said thoughtfully.

"Well I want them to be two girls!" cried Maureen.

Tom picked up a yellow crayon. "I hope the new kids are nice..."

With those final thoughts, the group began to work on their coloring. They didn't even notice Mrs Tibbs walk over to their table with a small boy standing beside her.

"Mark, Roger, Tom, Maureen, this is Angel. He's going to join you at your table, okay?"

Everyone nodded, and Angel quietly sat down next to Tom.

Tom smiled at Angel. "Hi, Angel. I'm Tom."

"I'm Maureen!" Maureen said loudly.

Roger doodled on his paper. "...Roger," he said. Mark realized that it was his turn and looked up at Angel. "My name's Mark."

"Hi," Angel said quietly. "You can...call me Angie."

"Angie? Ain't that a girl's name?" inquired Roger.

"Aww, Roger, be quiet. That's mean. I like that name...Angie..." Maureen said. Tom nodded in agreement. "I like it, too!"

Angel smiled. Mark noticed that he had dark curly hair and very bright brown eyes.

"You can start drawin' with us if you want," Mark said. Angel nodded and grabbed a paper. As he did so, Mark saw that Angel's nails were painted a very light, almost barely noticeable pink. Mark remembered his mother wearing a shade like that on her nails.

"How come you wear that stuff on your nails?" Roger asked. Angel looked down at the floor. "It's my sister's," he said, almost in a whisper. Roger shrugged and kept drawing.

After about five minutes of this, Mark looked up to see what everyone else had drawn. On Roger's paper was what looked like a guitar. Maureen was drawing something that looked like either a cow or a spotted cat to Mark, and Tom had drawn his dog Max. Mark glanced at Angel's paper, which had various pink and blue and purple flowers all over it. He stared at it for a long time, until Angel looked up at him and frowned.

"You don't like my picture?" Angel asked.

Roger looked up from his drawing to look at Angel's. "Girls draw flowers."

There was silence for a long moment. Then Angel, with sadness in his big brown eyes, began to rip up the paper when Tom stopped him. "Angie, don't throw it out, it's really good!"

Angel still pouted. Mark glanced at Roger, who apparently hadn't realized what he said.

"It's real good, Angie. I like the colors," Mark said reassuringly.

"My daddy never likes my pictures. He throws 'em away when I give them to him," replied Angel, looking down at the ground once more.

"Well I'd keep 'em. Cause they're good!" cried Tom. Angel's face brightened.

Mark had never seen a happier, brighter smile than the one that had just graced Angel's lips. It was as if it were contagious—for he was smiling, too. But he couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't seen the other new student yet.

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At recess, Mark, Roger, Tom, Maureen, and now, Angel, were playing a game of tag.

"Have you guys met Mimi yet?" Angel asked quietly, when everyone decided to take a break from running around.

"Huh?" said Maureen loudly.

"Is she the other new kid?" asked Tom. Angel nodded. "She used to go to the same kindergarten as me."

"I ain't seen her," replied Roger flatly.

Angel pointed over to the corner of the playground, where a small girl with long wavy brown hair was playing by herself with a pink ball.

"Oh," Roger said. "How come you both showed up here at the same time?"

"My school got shutted down," Angel replied.

"Maybe we should ask her to come 'n play," Mark said. Roger shook his head in disagreement.

"She looks like she's doin fine by herself." Mark shrugged and ran up and tagged Tom.

"You're it!"

A few more minutes went by like this, until as Roger was about to dodge Maureen's attempt to tag him, a familiar pink ball rolled in his direction. He picked it up. The girl apparently named Mimi walked over to him.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Mimi."

"Hi..." Roger said quietly.

"Can I have my ball?"

"Yeah." Roger handed Mimi the ball and the two kindergartners went their separate ways.

A couple of minutes later, the ball was back at Roger's feet again. Mimi once again skipped over to him.

"Would ya give me my ball, please?" she asked politely. Roger stared.

"Watcha lookin' at?"

"Nothin'." Roger quickly handed Mimi the ball once more, trying not to look at her.

"Hey, Rog, watcha keep starin' at Mimi for?" Mark asked. Roger shrugged. "I dunno. Aren't you supposed to be taggin' people? You're it!" Roger ran as fast as he could away from Mark when he bumped into someone.

"Sorry," he grumbled, and when he looked up he realized he had bumped into none other than Mimi.

"That's okay. What's you're name, anyway?" Mimi inquired, smiling up at him.

"I'm...Roger..."

"Can I play with you and your friends? Angie seems to be having a good time, and when he's happy I know I can be, too."

"You friends with him?"

"Uh-huh. We play dress-up a lot. It's fun 'cause we get to steal my mommy's makeup and put it on." She giggled. "So, can I play?"

Roger was silent for a moment. He wasn't sure why, but he was beginning to like Mimi. "Sure. C'mon. You'll like my friends..."

And with that, he gently took her hand and led her to the other side of the playground.

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**A/N (contd.): I hope you all caught on to the reference to how Mimi and Roger actually met in the musical. I put a little twist on it. Review please!**


	5. Coming Together, Drifting Apart

**A/N: BWAHAHAHA! Thank you for the reviews. You guys are awesome. In this chapter, all 8 of our bohemian friends will finally be introduced, as well as another character you guys should be familiar with. I won't be updating next week most likely because of final exams...I hate final exams. Hahaha! Anyway, R&R, people!

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Mark hopped out of the car into the brisk, cool fall air. He tried to escape and head towards the playground, but alas, his mother stopped him and, as he had feared, planted a huge kiss on his cheek.

"Have a great day at school, Mark! Remember to eat all of your lunch and always call mommy if you're sick and---"

"Bye, mom," Mark said, cutting her off and disappearing into the schoolyard. Mark watched her drive away and glanced at Cindy who skipped off to her friends. He spotted Tom a little ways ahead and ran towards him.

"Hi," he said. He looked around at the circle of friends there. Mimi, Angel, Tom, and Maureen were all standing around him—but where was Roger?

"How come Roger's not here?" Mark asked. Maureen shrugged. "He's over there," she said, pointing to the corner of the playground. Roger was talking with a girl with red hair whom he recognized as April Ericsson.

Mark blinked. "With April?"

"Yeah, he's been talkin' to her a lot," Tom said.

"Who's April?" Mimi inquired.

"She's in our class. She doesn't talk to any of us much," Maureen replied.

"Oh." Mimi looked down at the ground, and Mark noticed that she looked a little sad. Just then, Mrs. T came out and called the kindergarten children inside.

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Considering that Roger was sitting with April at her table, there was a random empty chair at the table Mark was sitting at. Mark stared at the empty chair.

"Mark, why are you starin' at the chair?" Angel asked. Mark adjusted his glasses and looked up at him. "Cause no one's sitting at it. It's dumb." Mark glared at it even more.

Angel let out a little giggle that, for some reason unknown to Mark, made Tom jump in his seat.

"Markie, you're gettin mad at a chair!" Angel squealed in between giggles.

"Angel, it's not that funny," Mimi said gloomily. But Tom was laughing too. Apparently she was the only one who wasn't amused.

Then Maureen came sashaying towards the table, her arm linked with a dark-skinned girl named Joanne's arm.

"Can Joanne sit in Roger's seat for now?" Maureen asked. Mark, although he had never truly gotten to know Joanne at all, knew that she usually played with most of the boys in the class. He looked around the table and it didn't look like anyone was objecting to Joanne's presence at the table.

"Sure," he said. "Hi Joanne. How come you're not playing with the other guys?"

"They're mean," said Joanne flatly.

"Oh. Well you can sit with us then, 'cause Roger isn't with us."

"Can I...play with you guys at share time and at recess too?" Joanne asked quietly.

"Yeah!" Tom said cheerfully. "You can play tag with us too! The more people we got, the funner!"

"Okay," Joanne smiled. Mark smiled too. He was already liking Joanne.

"So," Maureen said, getting a crayon and drawing a flower, "What did the boys do that was so mean?"

"Well, they kept saying stuff to me. They said, 'Go play with the girlies.' Isn't that mean?"

Angel leaned into the table to snatch a purple crayon and said, "They should go to the corner for that!"

"Who started sayin' that stuff anyway?" asked Mimi. Joanne shrugged. "Benny."

"I don't like Benny that much," Mark said, drawing another one of his infamous air planes.

"You know what he did to me once?" Tom began, as the group of friends looked up, listening intently.

"I _aksed _if I could play with his fire truck once. And he told me I could keep it! So I keeped it. And then a little time ago after, he told me to give it back. And I told him that he said I could keep it. But he said he needed it back and he took it from me."

Angel gasped. "That's mean!"

Tom nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said.

"So that's why I don't wanna play with them anymore," said Joanne.

"Well you can play with us!" Maureen said happily. After a few minutes of silence as the children were drawing, Mimi spoke up.

"How come Roger is with April now?" she asked.

"He'll come back. He just likes April too," said Tom reassuringly.

"You like Roger a lot, huh?" Mark said. Mimi nodded and looked down at the table.

"Well he likes you too. He told me so." Mark stared as Mimi's face brightened.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Mark had never seen Mimi so happy in the few weeks that he'd known her.

* * *

During recess, Mark tapped Tom on the shoulder.

"You should go talk to Angel."

"Why? Ain't he here?---" Tom stopped talking when he noticed Angel wasn't playing with them.

"He's over there." Mark pointed to Angel, who was sitting in the corner. Tom ran over to him.

"Angel, why are you sad?" he asked. Angel sniffled and looked up at him with a tear-stained face.

"Some of the boys were making fun of me," he whispered. "They poked me, too."

Tom sat down next to Angel. "Are you hurt?"

"No, they just poked me. But my dad sometimes pushes me. They didn't push me. They just poked." He sniffled again. Tom didn't know what else to do but give Angel a hug.

"I'd throw 'em all to the bad corner!" he said, still hugging Angel. "And I'd keep 'em there for forever!"

Angel laughed.

"You know Angel, I like your laugh."

Angel blinked. "My laugh?"

"Yeah."

He smiled. "Thanks." He pulled away from Tom and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"I'm better now," he said. Tom stood up and helped Angel to his feet.

"Okay, do you wanna come play with us now?"

Angel nodded enthusiastically. As they headed back to their group of friends, Angel said quietly, "You're my bestest friend."

Tom smiled sheepishly and replied, "You're my bestest friend too, Angel."

And, together, they walked away.

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? R&R please!**


	6. Ghosts Don't Wear Glasses

**A/N: WOOHOO! It's Friday! I have 2 more exams but they're on Monday, which means I AM UPDATING NOW! YAY! LOL! This chapter will feature our little boho kids celebrating Halloween. It is more logical for Angel's name to really be Angelo and just have him prefer that people call him Angel. That's why I'm writing it that way. R&R PLEASE!

* * *

**

"Gimme your eraser, Mark." Roger leaned over to the other side of the table and snatched Mark's pencil eraser. He had joined his group once more a few days before, declaring that April had become 'boring and always playin' with the stupid girls'. This had made Mimi extremely happy and back to her normal, happy-go-lucky self.

"Um...I was using that," Mark quietly replied. Roger rolled his eyes.

"Hold on a sec. I forgetted that 'book's got two 'o's in it," he said, moving the eraser back and forth on his workbook page, causing it to make a loud screeching sound that made Maureen giggle.

"Hey, what are you guys gonna be for Halloween?" Joanne inquired. "I'm gonna be a doctor."

Mark had completely forgotten that Halloween was a week from that day until Joanne had mentioned it.

"I'm gonna be a PRINCESS!" Maureen squealed. Without looking up from her workbook page that s he had been concentrating on, Mimi said, "I'm dressin' up as a kitty cat."

Tom shrugged. "I don't really care. My mommy's dressin' me up as a cowboy. I get to shoot people with a gun!" He pretended to shoot various people in the room with his pointer finger and thumb.

"It ain't a real gun," Roger said, killing a perfectly happy moment.

"My sister is helping me make an angel costume," Angel said quietly.

"You mean you're dressin' up as yourself, Angie?" Mark asked. Angel laughed.

"No, dummy, an _angel_. With wings. Anyways, my name isn't really angel. It's Angelo. But I like it when everyone calls me Angel."

"Oh."

"I'm gonna be a rock star!" shouted Roger, making guitar-like sounds and pretending to play a guitar. He was shushed by Mrs. T and sank down in his chair. "What're you gonna be, Mark?"

Mark blinked. "My mom wants me to be a ghost. She's making me a costume out of a bed sheet."

"Aww, everyone dresses up like a ghost, Mark," said Roger.

"So? Mark will be a great ghost," Angel said reassuringly, putting an arm around Mark.

"Yeah, a ghost with glasses!" Roger cracked. Tom stifled a laugh and went back to his workbook page. The others exchanged glances and gave sympathetic looks in Mark's direction before going back to their workbook pages as well. It was only then that Mark knew exactly what he was going to do with his glasses on Halloween night.

* * *

"Marky, dear, wear your glasses! You need to see where you're going! Why won't you wear your glasses?" Mrs. Cohen asked in a sweet high-pitched voice as she tampered with Mark's costume. Mark shook his head, although it wasn't very visible due to the fact that he was covered with a white sheet with three holes poked in it.

"I don't wanna wear my glasses. Ghosts don't wear glasses, mommy."

"Yes they do dear now put them on right now," Mrs. Cohen replied quickly, shoving the glasses into Mark's hands. Mark sighed and took them.

"Now, Daddy and Roger's daddy are going to take all of you around to some houses once everyone gets here." After begging their parents for hours, all 7 of the little bohemians had managed to convince their parents to let them go Trick-or-Treating together.

Once everyone arrived, they were on their way. When no one was looking, Mark put his glasses down on the coffee table before running out the door. Roger was right. Ghosts don't wear glasses.

"Don't go too far ahead!" Mr. Cohen called as the children walked. Mark looked through the little holes in his costume with the blurry vision he had at everyone's costumes. Tom had a cowboy hat on with cowboy pants and a shirt and, as he had promised, a toy gun in his pocket. Occasionally he'd take it out and randomly shout "BANG! BANG!" to see who on the street would notice. Joanne had a green doctor's outfit on and she looked very professional and serious as she walked alongside Maureen. Maureen. Mark couldn't help but stare. Even without his glasses, the glittery pink, poofy dress was clearly visible. She was wearing a glittery crown and pink shoes to match. Roger had his hair even more spiked than usual, wearing black and various chains and such that Mark couldn't make sense of. He was carrying a little guitar along with his trick-or-treat bag. Mimi was dressed as a black cat, painted whiskers and all. Mark almost expected her to meow at one point. And then there was Angel. He was wearing all white, a halo, and big white wings. Anyone who walked by would notice that he looked almost luminescent. Mark stared some more. He stared until they made it to the first house.

"Trick or treat!" They all shouted when an old lady opened the door.

"Oooh, how lovely!" The lady dropped a candy bar into each of their bags as she called them up, We have a rock star, a cat, a doctor, a princess, a cowboy, a lovely little angel, and..." The lady paused. "Is that a ghost way back there?" She squinted.

"Yeah," Mark said quietly, stepping up for his candy.

"Oh, how darling!" She dropped a candy into Mark's bag and they were off to the next house.

As they walked from house to house, it became extremely difficult for Mark not to run into things. At one point, he even ran into a tree.

"Ouch!" he shouted. His dad ran over to him and helped him up. "You okay, buddy?"

Mark nodded and walked over to his friends who, Mark hoped, apparently didn't notice his fall. That was, until, Roger opened his big mouth.

"You ran into a tree!" Roger cried, laughing, "What're you doing without your glasses anyhow? That's dumb."

Mark turned toward Roger.

"You're the one who said ghosts don't wear glasses."

That kept Roger quiet for a while, and as for Mark, he just knew it was going to be one heck of a long Halloween night.


	7. Bad Day

**A/N: WOOHOO! Exams are done and I'm almost done with school! Thanks for reviewing, everyone. You guys rock. This chapter takes place about a month after the previous one (Halloween). It's kinda short, but...yeah. Don't you love our little bohemians in all their kindergarten-ness? Enjoy, R&R please!  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own RENT or the song "Bad Day" by Daniel Powter.

* * *

**

Mark Cohen stood at the playground, waiting for his other friends to arrive and for school to begin. He was secretly hoping that this particular Friday would go by very slowly. That coming weekend was Thanksgiving, and that could only mean three things—Tons of food, Grown ups laughing at random things, and, of course, Grandma's kisses. They were what Mark dreaded the most about holiday dinners with his big family. There was always at least one person pinching his cheek and saying, "Oh, Marky, you're so adorable!" every couple of minutes. But Thanksgiving was especially torturous, because of the fact that there was so much food that he would be forced to sit at the table for a while and have people talking to him slowly in high-pitched voices—

"Hey, Mark?"

A voice interrupted Mark's thoughts. He turned to see Benny looking at him.

"Hi, Benny," Mark said quietly. Benny. He was the last person Mark wanted to see at the moment—besides his Grandma, that is. He watched as Benny looked down at the concrete floor for a moment.

"Um...Roger plays with Mimi a lot, right?" Benny asked, looking up at Mark.

Mark blinked. "Yeah. Why?"

"Just...wonderin'." With that, Benny walked away, leaving Mark with a completely confused look on his face. Just then, he saw Maureen being dropped off by her dad and smirked as she skipped over to him.

"Hiiiiiii, Markyyy!" she screamed loudly. For some reason, in all its randomness, Mark kind of liked it when she screamed his name out into the playground.

"Hey, Maureen." No sooner had he said hi to Maureen, Joanne showed up, as did Mimi, Roger, and Tom. When the bell rang, they all headed inside.

* * *

The first thing Tom said when they sat at their table was, "Where's Angie?" He looked around at everyone at the table, who resorted to either shrugging or not responding at all.

"Maybe he's just late," Joanne suggested.

"Or sick," added Mimi. "Angel gets colds lotsa times and stays home from school."

"Oh," Tom said quietly, looking down at his pencil lying on top of the table. Mark stared. Tom never got this upset over someone not showing up for school. In fact, Mark rarely ever saw Tom get upset over anything. Mark glanced over at Roger, who was staring at Mimi, who was staring at Benny across the room, who was staring right back at Mimi. Everyone seemed to be staring at someone, and there was an awkward silence amongst the group as they worked on a math sheet that was handed out by the teacher. Mark was fine with silence, but not this kind—it brought about a feeling that Mark couldn't explain...and, even though he wasn't sure why, it sent chills down his spine.

* * *

At lunch, Mimi was sulking at the corner of the table, chewing her sandwich slowly. Roger was, from what Mark could see, completely ignoring her.

"You okay, Mimi?" Mark asked. Mimi nodded. "I'm good," she said. Tom held up his Captain Crunch. "Anyone want them?" he asked. "I don't wanna eat 'em."

Mark knew that it was quite unusual of Tom not to eat his Captain Crunch. The absence of Angel was obviously really getting to him. Joanne and Maureen were chattering up a storm, and Roger was staring off into space. Things were really getting weird.

* * *

By recess time, Roger Davis was in a very cranky mood.

"What's up, Rog? Did ya take your nap?" Maureen joked. Roger glared at her and she jumped, running behind Mark.

"He's scarin' me!" she whined. She dramatically sighed and walked away. Mark looked over at Roger, who was kicking a pebble on the ground. "How come you're mad?" he asked. Roger said nothing. He simply glanced towards the other side of the playground, where Mimi was walking around with Benny.

Mark understood. "Oh, that's why you're mad. Mimi will _probly_ come back later." Glancing over at Tom, who was sitting down staring at his fingernails, Mark had a feeling that he was the only one who wanted to play tag that day. But he asked anyway.

"Anyone wanna play tag?"

No one answered for a moment, except for Joanne, who said, "Sure! You're it!"

And so the two of them played by themselves.

* * *

Tom let out a long sigh, causing Mark to stop looking at Mrs. T as she babbled about words that rhyme. He leaned over and whispered, "What's up?"

"I miss Angie. It's boring without him," he whispered back. Mark felt bad for Tom. He was beginning to miss Angel himself; no one would be able to see him until after Thanksgiving break. He was about to say something else when he was interrupted.

"Tom and Mark, please be quiet while I'm speaking," Mrs. T said. The boys grew quiet and looked back up at Mrs. T and did the usual routine of pretending to pay attention. As Mark stared, he thought about what had gone on in the course of the day. Mimi had stopped talking to Roger and had decided to play with Benny during recess, Tom spent the whole day missing Angel, Roger was mad at Mimi for playing with Benny, and Maureen had just been her usual drama-queen self. Joanne, and of course, Mark himself, had been the only ones in the group who had been in a good mood that day. Mark was wondering why he'd been in such a great mood anyhow.

After all, _he_ was the one who had to get Grandma's kisses.

_Cause you had a bad day  
You're taking one down  
You sing a sad song just to turn it around  
You say you don't know  
You tell me don't lie  
You work at a smile and you go for a ride  
You had a bad day  
The camera don't lie  
You're coming back down and you really don't mind  
You had a bad day  
You had a bad day_


	8. Eskimoles' and Apologies

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I'm not sure how many chapters this story is going to end up being...Either way, I've already decided that I'm doing a sequel after this fanfic...But I'm not sure what grade I should have the RENT characters in. I was thinking a few years after the year this story took place, say, 3rd or 4th grade? See, I was figuring that if I did a fanfic of them in first grade, it'd be all too similar to the fic of them in kindergarten. I want to be able to write a sequel in which the boho boys and their friends have matured a little more. Any suggestions? Ok sorry that was long, lmao! R&R please!**

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It was December 1st. Oh, how time was flying for little 5-year-old Mark Cohen! As his mother helped him wrap his black & white scarf around his neck, he tried to count in his head how many days were left until Christmas. But by number twenty he was confusing himself. Mrs. Cohen began obsessing over Mark and Cindy, asking them over and over if they would be warm enough in the cold air, even with the layers of sweaters they were wearing. Mark was used to this kind of behavior from his mother, but that didn't mean he liked it.

"Mommy, can we go now?" he whined. Mrs. Cohen took one last look at her children and nodded in approval. "Okay, kids, let's get you to school!"

"Finally..." Cindy grumbled.

* * *

Entering the schoolyard, Mark saw Angel smiling and waving to him a little ways ahead. Mark smiled too. Angel's smile truly _was_ contagious. Tom was, of course, standing next to Angel. He hadn't let him out of his sight since Angel had been absent from school. Mark headed over towards the rest of the group, and saw Roger pointing and laughing.

"Marky, you look like an _eskimole_!" he cried.

Mark blinked. "What's an eskimole?"

"My dad told me that it's a guy who wears a bunch of coats in a place called _Alaksa_," Tom said thoughtfully.

"I don't live in _Alaksa_," said Mark.

"But you look like an eskimole!" Roger replied. Mark looked down at his layers of coats and knew that he truly did look like a guy who wore a bunch of coats in a place called Alaksa, otherwise known as an _eskimole_. Maureen giggled.

"Hey," Joanne said, "Where's Mimi?"

Angel pointed to the other side of the yard. "Playin' with Benny."

Mark watched as Roger cast a seemingly very jealous glance in Benny and Mimi's direction. He knew that couldn't mean anything good. Before he knew it, the bell rang and it was time for school.

* * *

Roger chewed on a piece of Mark's eraser and stared across the room at Benny and Mimi.

"Why is she hangin' out with Benny anyhow?" he grumbled.

"Can I have my eraser?" Mark asked.

"Maybe she's mad at us?" suggested Angel. Everyone around the table shrugged, and followed Roger's gaze across the room at Mimi, who was laughing, and at Benny, who was smiling.

"I think we should talk to her or somethin'..." Maureen said, "'Cause Angie's right...she's _probly_ mad at us."

Mark adjusted his glasses. "Can someone give me my eraser back?"

"Let's just wait 'til tomorrow..." said Roger.

"Yeah," Joanne agreed, "Maybe she'll be better tomorrow."

"Will _somebody_ gimme my eraser?" Mark shouted.

Roger blinked, handing over the eraser to Mark. "Gosh, Mark, don't freak out. You just gotta ask."

Mark simply sighed.

* * *

The next day came, and Mimi was still with Benny, occasionally looking over at her 'old' group of friends.

"Benny, do you think they miss me?" she asked as they were eating lunch.

Benny shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you go talk to 'em at recess?"

" 'Kay."

Meanwhile, Mark, Roger, Tom, Angel, Joanne, and Maureen all sat at their usual table eating their lunches.

"One of us's gotta go talk to Mimi. Angie, how about you?" Roger said, his mouth full of food.

Angel shrank in his chair. "Uh-uh. I don't want to. Mimi won't listen to me"

"Aww, come on, Angie!" protested Roger, his voice getting louder, making Angel sink into his chair even lower.

"Don't make him do it, Rog!" Tom interrupted, putting an arm around Angel. Roger rolled his eyes, and Angel sniffled and sat back up in his chair.

"Fine. Maureen?"

"I don't know..." Maureen paused. "Nah, I'm not good with talkin'."

"Yes you are! You talk a lot!" Roger cried. When she still shook her head, he turned to Joanne. "Jo?" Roger asked hopefully.

"Nope." Joanne said flatly. "I don't know Mimi good yet..."

"Tom, come on, you know Mimi," Roger said quickly. Tom shook his head.

"I don't wanna. Let Marky do it."

Mark's eyes widened. "NO! I don't wanna! Mimi-might-get-mad-at-me-and-I-don't-wanna-Roger-please-don't-make-me-I-don't-wanna---"

"Oh, for cryin' out LOUD! I'll do it! Sheesh, you babies..." Roger sighed. "I'll talk to her at recess."

* * *

At recess, Tom and Mark literally had to shove Roger in the direction of where Mimi was standing.

"GO!" they all shouted. Roger glared at them the whole time as he was walking. Only when he turned back around did he realize that Mimi was walking towards _him_ as well. Soon they were both looking each other in the eyes.

"Um...hi.." Roger said quietly.

"Hi," replied Mi mi.

"Um...how come you ain't playing with us anymore?"

"It's not them...It's...Because...you were ignoring me." Mimi stared down at her fingernails.

"Oh..." Roger knew she was right. "I'm...sorry."

Mimi looked up at him and her eyes sparkled. She stared at him for a long time. "Really?"

Roger nodded. "Really. Now come play with us!" He started to walk back towards his friends when Mimi grabbed his arm. He turned around.

"I'm sorry, too, Roger. For leaving all of you guys to go with Benny."

"It's okay. Come on; Angie _brung_ in a jump rope today, and he said he wanted you to play with it...and Jo brought in her ball, so we can play catch, too!"

Mimi smiled. "Okay! Let's go!"

Mimi took one last glance back at Benny, who was already with some new girl named Allison. She shrugged, and skipped away to catch up with Roger and the rest of her _true_ best friends.

* * *

A/N (cont'd): NEXT CHAPTER IS CHRISTMAS! WOOT!


	9. Christmas, Shininess, and a Drum

**A/N: WOOT! Thanks for the reviews. I went to see RENT on stage yesterday---The touring company---and it was amazing. I was sooo happy! Yeah sorry I had to share that lol...I have concluded, with the help of you reviewers, that my sequel will take place in the boho kids' 5th grade year! Nope, not 4th, not 3rd. 5th. Is that ok? Let me know. Also, last chapter, I had technically said that this chapter would be 'Christmas' but it's actually BEFORE Christmas, and then AFTER it. Just lettin' y'all know. R&R! ENJOY!**

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There were merely days left until Christmas, and, that day being the last day before Christmas break, Mrs. T was letting the students make decorative Christmas cards for their families. As Angel sprinkled glitter on his red and green paper card, he asked, "So what did you guys ask Santa to get you for Christmas?"

"I want a new baseball bat. The one I have now really stinks," Tom said flatly. "And then I wroted down a bunch of other stuff that I don't remember. What do you want for Christmas, Angie?"

"Lotsa stuff," Angel said, "But I want a drum set the most. I like drums. My sister gotted a drum set once and she never, ever used it, and I always played with it, so I want my own!"

"I want a doll!" Maureen shouted, "With a pretty pink dress!"

"I want a doll, too," said Mimi, "and a makeup kit!" The group of friends began chattering loudly about toys and reindeer and Santa Clause. Then Roger decided to put in his two cents:

"Santa? Santa don't give you the gifts. Parents do."

"That's not true!" Joanne gasped.

"Do you mean," Angel said, his eyes widening, "That you don't believe in _Santy Clause_?"

"Yeah, it is true. And I ain't believin' in any Santa, Angie."

"Who says Santa doesn't give gifts?" Maureen raised an eyebrow.

"My brother," said Roger, attempting to draw a Christmas tree on the inside of his card.

Tom rolled his eyes, "Why do you listen to your brother anyhow? He's _probly_ lying."

"No he isn't!" Roger cried defensively.

"Ooh, Roger," Joanne teased, "You're a bad boy for not believin' in Santa. You're gonna get coal for Christmas instead of toys!" The group of kindergartners began to giggle, and Roger pouted.

"Whatever, I don't want that fat guy comin' in my house anyway."

"What fat guy?" Mark hadn't been paying attention.

"SANTA!" They all shouted. Mark jumped in his seat.

Angel burst out laughing, almost falling out of his chair, and Mimi said, "Rog, I guess you believe in him 'cause you said he comes to your house!"

"Aww, shut up, Mimi," said Roger. Mimi giggled.

They continued to work on their cards in silence, until Angel looked out the window briefly and then turned to Tom.

"Look," he whispered, "It's startin' to snow!" Tom looked outside and smiled. He took Angel's hand and led him over to the window so they could get a good look at the tiny snowflakes falling to the ground. Soon the entire class had crowded around the windows and begun to stare in amazement at the snow.

"Roger, it's so pretty!" Mimi squealed, tugging on his sleeve and standing on tip-toe to look at the snow over the other children's heads. Normally, Roger would have pushed Mimi away for tugging on his sleeve like that. But today, he let her. Maureen was jumping up and down, crying out, "Ooh! I wanna make a snowman!"

"But there isn't enough snow yet," Joanne said.

"Whatever...I'll make a baby snowman if I gotta."

"Who would wanna make a _baby_ snowman?" Roger asked.

Maureen stomped her foot. "_I_ wanna! So ha! Baby snowmans are better than regular snowmans!"

"No they're not," Roger said flatly.

"Mark! Aren't baby snowmans better than regular snowmans?" Maureen snapped. Mark blinked. If there was one thing Mark wasn't especially good at, it was making decisions—especially when he was forced to make decisions on the spot. "Um...I like both."

"BOTH?" squealed Maureen. "BUT BABY SNOWMANS ARE CUTER!"

"Not really," replied Roger.

"But---"

"All right, children, back to your seats!" Mrs. T interrupted Roger and Maureen's argument and they were forced to go back to the table.

And as Tom was walking back to his seat, it was then he realized he had been holding on to Angel's hand the whole time. He quickly pulled away and looked at Angel, who just grinned at him and skipped back to his seat.

In the end, Roger and Maureen decided to settle the dispute on the fact that baby "snowmans" were just as nice as regular-sized "snowmans".

In all honesty, Mark didn't really like making snowmen.

* * *

Christmas vacation flew by in a blur, and soon the children were back at school again. The first thing that was said to Mark when he entered the schoolyard was, "I GOT MY MAKEUP KIT FROM SANTA!" He watched as Mimi jumped around him excitedly. Roger was standing there, slightly annoyed that he wasn't getting any attention.

Then Angel came into the schoolyard, holding a drum and some drumsticks, shouting, "Look what I got!" He sat down on the concrete and began to play on his new drum, showing off to any student who happened to pass by. A group of sixth grade girls walked by and whispered, "Aww, how cute!" and giggled hysterically. Angel just looked up at them and blinked.

"Didn't they like my drums?" He asked. Mark simply shrugged.

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, the boho kids were already hyper and didn't even need the sugar provided by the cookies and sweets (i.e. leftover Christmas candies) that were packed in their lunch boxes.

"Oh my gosh, Angie, I love your nails!" Maureen squealed, pointing to Angel's nail polish—each nail was painted red or green.

"Thanks," said Angel. Mark stared. Angel's nails—they were...shiny. And he had to stare at them. The shininess was too shiny to ignore, it was...

"Shiny," he whispered. Tom looked up from his sandwich at him.

"Why'd you say 'shiny', Markie?" he asked.

Mark blinked. "Angel's nails. They're shiny."

Angel giggled, "Thank you, Markie!" He held out his hand so Mark could see the almighty shininess that was even shinier than before.

"Did your sister do that for you?" asked Joanne. Angel nodded. And Mark stared.

* * *

Once it was recess time, the hyper-ness that the children were experiencing was finally allowed to be let loose. The seven friends played catch, jump rope, anything that would keep them running around...and, of course, Angel brought his drum outside, too.

But then a certain someone who wasn't paying attention did a very, very bad thing.

"Mark!" Roger screeched, "Pass the ball to me! Throw it real far!"

"Okay," Mark said quietly, throwing the ball as far as he could. Roger started to run backwards so he could catch the ball.

He didn't notice who, and what, was right behind him. He caught the ball, and, CRASH! He stepped right into something. He looked down at his feet and stared, wide-eyed. His left foot was right in the middle of Angel's drum.

"ROGER!" Mimi cried as she ran over to him, "You broke Angie's drum!"

"Uh-oh..." Roger mumbled.

Mark ran over to his group of friends. He had a feeling what was going to happen next. Sure enough, as he predicted, Angel began to cry. Mimi wrapped an arm around her friend and said, "Aww, Angie, it's ok. Maybe your mommy and daddy will get you a new one!"

Tom came running over to the scene, followed by nosy Maureen and a very concerned Joanne.

"Angie!" he cried, sitting down next to his best friend.

Angel sniffled. "Roger...broke...my...drum!"

"ROGER! YOU DUMMY!" cried Maureen.

"I didn't see it there!" Roger said defensively. Tom stared at the broken drum, which had a hole right in the center of it. It didn't look like Angel would be using it anymore.

"You really are a dummy, Rog," he said, as Angel continued to cry. He helped Angel to his feet and the entire group left Roger standing there with the drum beside him, for once really feeling like a 'dummy'.

* * *

Mark glanced over at Roger during Share Time. He was on the other side of the room, clearly focusing on something that Mark couldn't quite see from the angle he was at. He shrugged and continued to play with his friends.

But a little while later, Roger came over to the group, holding something behind his back.

"Um...hi," he said quietly.

"Hi..." they all mumbled. Angel sniffled. Roger gulped.

"Um, Angie, I'm sorry I busted your drum. I gotted some tape from Mrs. T's desk...and...um..." He pulled out what he was hiding behind his back, and sure enough, it was Angel's drum—the hole in the center covered in tape.

"I tried to fix it," he said, "But it didn't come out too good."

Everyone stared at it for a moment. Then, suddenly, Angel burst into a fit of giggles. Roger raised an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?" he asked. But Angel kept laughing. He laughed and laughed until he was clutching his sides and almost fell over, but luckily Tom caught him before he fell. Mark stared.

"Come on, Angie, why're you laughin'?"

Angel pointed. "The drum! It looks funny!" he squealed. Mimi looked from Angel, then back to the drum, then back to Angel again, and soon she was laughing, and then everyone was laughing. Except for Roger, of course.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked. Angel shook his head. "No, Rogie, it's ok. I'll just use my sister's...or my mommy and daddy will get me a new one!"

"Good," Roger said. He paused. "Don't call me Rogie."

* * *

**A/N (contd): LOL. I think we all could use pathetic!Roger instead of emo!Roger once in a while...**


	10. The NeverEnding School Day

**A/N: Happy 10th chapter! I really wanna start getting about 10 reviews per chapter. Can you help me out there, guys, by R&Ring? Thanks. I can relate to this chapter especially because I remember being in kindergarten and having all the older kids all over me saying how cute I was...it was a scary, scary thing. Chapter 11 will be Valentine's Day, but don't be expecting too much fluff for our boho kids...remember, they're only 5 years old. Romances are for my sequel Hahaha! R&R, pleeeeease! Enjoy!

* * *

**

The first thing Mark noticed as he sat down at his usual table for another day of school was the lack of shininess of Angel's nail polish. This was because, in fact, he did not have any on his nails.

Apparently Mark wasn't the only one who noticed. Roger flatly asked, "Hey Angie, what happened to the shiny stuff on your nails?"

Angel blinked. "My daddy made me take it off. He didn't like it."

"Oh," said Roger. Mark, who was slightly disappointed about the fact that there was no shininess to stare at, looked around the table at his friends. Maureen and Joanne were working quietly (which was a rare thing to see on Maureen's part), Roger was now chewing on his pencil and staring blankly down at the piece of paper in front of him. Angel was working, too, his tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly with concentration as he slowly wrote his name on the paper:

A _N_ G** E** L O

Mark was amused by the 'O' dangling off of the line where the children were supposed to write their names. Mark had not once heard anyone call Angel "Angelo". Tom was helping Mimi with her worksheet.

"See, you gotta take those two, and put 'em with those two, and then you get all four of 'em."

Mimi's eyes widened with realization. "Ooooooooh! I get it."

Mark wished he could be as smart as Tom was.

* * *

The morning was going by extremely slowly for the seven friends, and Mark felt as if the day was going to drag on forever. As if his best friend were reading his mind, Tom spoke up.

"What if today _never _ends?" he asked thoughtfully, staring up into space. They all stared at him.

"Like, we wouldn't ever get to go home 'cause we'd be stuck here forever..." Tom was still completely lost in thought.

"It's gotta end some time," Joanne said. "'Cause yesterday ended. And the day before did, too!"

"But what if today decides it ain't gonna end?" Tom was on a roll.

"It's gonna end..." Mark said quietly. "It's gotta."

"But what if it don't?" Tom asked.

"I hope it ends, 'cause I wanna go home..." mumbled Roger.

"Me too. If today doesn't end, I couldn't go home and today Mama's making tacos for dinner," said Angel. Everyone shifted their awkward stares from Tom to Angel. "Tacos are my favorite," he added sheepishly. Maureen made a face. "I hate tacos."

"I like tacos!" Mimi cried. "They're yummy."

"Maureen, you're weird, who doesn't like tacos?"

Tom, who was slightly disappointed that the discussion about his theory had fallen through, decided to chime in. "I don't like tacos either."

And then an argument about tacos began.

* * *

Later in the morning came the couple of events that interrupted the boring routine of Mark's normal school day. Mark always liked making trips to the bathroom, because he loved making his trip very slow, walking down the hallways and looking at different classrooms. It was something he did to pass the time, and he enjoyed it.

That is, he enjoyed it when he wasn't being bombarded by a stampede of older kids.

The first scenario was when he was walking towards the bathroom and a group of older girls who were walking to whatever class they needed to go to decided they'd stop in front of him.

"Aww! Are you Cindy's brother?"

Mark nodded, looking down at the floor.

"Oh my God, Amy, look at his face! Isn't he so cute?"

"I want him to be my brother!"

They all started squealing and giggling and it was making Mark Cohen very scared. He started to walk towards the bathroom, where they couldn't possibly reach him, but they stopped him once more.

"How old are you?" One of the girls asked. She was blonde, and had her hair in two ponytails and was chewing gum.

"Five..."

"Aww! Did you hear that, Elaine? He's five! Five!"

They all started giggling again and that was when Mark decided to make a run for the bathroom, faintly hearing the girls' voices in the distance.

"Nice job, you scared him, dummy!"

"Well, I didn't mean to!"

"'C'mon, we're gonna be late for class!"

The second unfortunate happening was even worse than the first. Mark was almost to his classroom when he saw one of the older classes running down the hallway, apparently heading to the Gym.

"Uh...oh," he whispered. Before he could move out of the way, the stampede of kids ran past him, and one very big kid pushed him accidentally, sending him falling to the floor. Clutching his knee, Mark started bawling. It was then that Roger happened to be heading out of the room to perform his usual trick of asking to get a drink from the fountain when he would really wander around the school...

"Mark?" Roger ran over to him. "Ooh, your knee's got blood all over it." Mark was still crying.

"C'mon, we gotta get you in the classroom so you can get a _Ban-daide_." Roger helped Mark to his feet. But Mark felt like he couldn't move.

"I can't walk!" he cried out. Roger began to talk in a low voice, which was quite unusual.

"Just put your arm...like that." Roger placed Mark's arm around both of his shoulders. "...And I'll help ya walk. The classroom ain't far away anyway."

They walked like that until they reached the classroom, and Mrs. T quickly got a wet paper towel and a Band Aid to tend to Mark's scraped knee. Roger went back to his seat, only to be attacked by questions from his friends.

"What happened to Marky?" Angel cried.

"Is he dead?" Maureen asked loudly.

"No! How can he be dead if he's over there?" Roger pointed to Mark, whose faint whimpers could be heard if any of the children even thought to listen closely enough.

"So if he ain't dead, what happened?" asked Tom.

"He _falled_ on the floor and hurt his leg," Roger said.

"Aww, poor Mark!" Joanne said sympathetically. Mark came wandering back over to the group, sniffling.

Mimi put a hand on his shoulder. "Mark! Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh. But if Roger didn't find me, I _probly_ would be dead."

Angel let out a squeal. "...Dead?" He asked, shocked.

They all glared at Maureen, who blinked. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Roger saved my life!" cried Mark triumphantly. Roger just smirked.

"Aww, it was nothin'. But he's right. He'd _probly _be dead if I didn't show up."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

"He would, too!"

"Would not."

"Would too!"

"I don't wanna be dead!" Mark wailed.

Joanne patted his back reassuringly. "You're not dead, Marky."

Mimi stared down at the Band Aid on the scrape on Mark's knee. "It's just a little cut, Marky, it'll be okay."

Mark sniffed. "I'm not dead?"

Mimi just smiled. "Nope. You're good."

Mark breathed a sigh of relief. Now all he had to do was wait till the day was over.

"Mrs. T?"

"Yes, Mark?"

"Is it lunch time yet?"

"No, Mark."

Mark had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was possible that Tom's theory earlier could have been true. Maybe the day truly _wasn't_ going to end.


	11. Valentime's Day

**A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I never thought I'd even get close to 100 reviews! -hugs every person who reviewed- The boho kids thank you too. -points at all the boho kids who are waving, except for Roger who is eating a crayon- Um...yeah...don't mind him. Anyway, thank you SOOO much. I won't ask for 10 reviews per chapter anymore, because I realize that was being kind of greedy...I apologize. -hands everyone cookies-**

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After much contemplation, Mark Cohen had decided on giving Maureen Johnson a flower on Valentine's Day.

Of course, this decision had been under the influence of Cindy who had received a flower from some guy named Bob the day before and simply felt that every boy should be like Bob. So, as the family sat at the dinner table the day before the dreaded Valentine's Day, Cindy spoke to Mark.

"Marky, you gotta get something for a girl in your class tomorrow," she said. Mark blinked.

"Why?"

Cindy giggled. "Because it's Valentine's Day tomorrow, silly!"

"Now, Cindy, Mark's only in kindergarten, and you're in fourth grade. There's a big difference there," said Mr. Cohen.

"But it would be nice if he got somethin' for his little crush that I know he has!" Cindy squealed.

"I don't got a crush," said Mark, staring down at his food. Mark had only just been revealed to what the word crush actually meant not too long ago, and he certainly didn't have one.

"Well there's gotta be some girl that you at least like," protested Cindy.

"There's Maureen, Joanne, and Mimi...but that's it. They're my friends."

"Then pick one and give her a flower."

"I don't wanna!"

"You're just too chicken!"

"Cindy, don't be pushy. If Mark doesn't want to do it, he doesn't have to," Mrs. Cohen said.

Cindy sighed. "Fine."

For the rest of the night, Mark felt guilty about the fact that he wasn't going to give anyone a flower—and sad that he was considered 'chicken'. And that was when he decided that he had no other choice if he wanted this feeling of guilt to disappear.

* * *

The next morning, Mark found a lonely flower in the corner of his backyard. It wasn't the prettiest flower in the world, as it was almost wilted due to the cold weather, but it was still a flower, and that was what Cindy had said to give one of the girls. It was the only one Mark could find. He was to embarrassed to ask his parents where else he could get one. In all its dryness, it would have to do. The next step as he was being driven to school was who to give the flower to.

_Mimi...no. She would like it better if _Roger_ gotted her a flower..._

_Joanne don't like flowers..._

_...Maureen._

Mark had made his decision. He liked Maureen, anyhow.

He entered the schoolyard with the flower behind his back and walked over to his group of friends, who had been in the middle of a conversation.

"..._Valentime_'s Day's stupid. Who cares about flowers and chocolate anyway?" Roger was saying.

"I know. It's dumb," Tom agreed. "Oh, hi, Mark."

"Hi." Mark was still holding the flower behind his back. "Is Maureen here yet?"

"Don't think so..." Mimi looked around the playground. "Why?"

Mark gulped. He was afraid that his friends would laugh at him if he told them about the flower. "Um...no reason. Just wonderin'..." He hoped Cindy would be proud of him for doing this. It was very nerve-wracking. He waited and waited. Angel showed up, then Joanne, and then, finally, Maureen.

"Hi!" she shouted loudly.

"Hi, Maureen!" Angel said excitedly. Angel was _always_ excited.

"Did you guys know that today's _Valentime_'s Day?" she said. Everyone nodded.

"You like _Valentime_'s day, Maureen?" Roger asked. "I think it's dumb."

Mark had heard Cindy pronounce the word as "Valentine". But after all, he had a fairly smart group of friends. Cindy was probably wrong. He made a mental note to use the word "Valentime" instead of "Valentine".

"I love it! Everything is pink at the stores and stuff! I like pink!" Maureen said. Mark was relieved that his flower was (or had been when it was alive) a pinkish color. He was still holding it behind his back and his palms were getting sweaty from nervousness. What if she didn't like the flower? Wait a minute...why was he suddenly caring so much? He was only doing this so he could prove to Cindy that he wasn't chicken. Or maybe he really did want Maureen to like the flower? Lost in thought, Mark didn't realize that Maureen was talking to him.

"Mark? Watcha hiding behind your back?"

_Uh-oh._

As if on cue, the school bell was rung, and the children began to line up. As the rest of his friends went to the line, Mark looked up at Maureen and pulled the flower from behind his back.

"For you. For Valentime's Day." He handed it to her.

Maureen stared down at the flower, a blank expression on her face. Mark felt like crying.

"It's..." she began, in a whisper.

_Ugly? Stupid? "Mark, you're such a dummy, why did you give this to me?" _Mark was listing the possibilities in his mind.

"PINK!" Maureen shrieked. She gave Mark a huge hug. "Thank you Marky!" Mark just smiled sheepishly, happy to see her smiling.

"Mark, Maureen, please line up." Mrs. T said. The two friends quickly got in line and headed into the building.

* * *

"Hey, Joanne, pass me your yellow crayon," Roger said. It was Arts & Crafts time. 

"How come you don't got your own?" asked Joanne, handing him her yellow crayon.

"'Cause I ate it."

Everyone looked up from their construction paper and stared at Roger. He looked down at his paper with embarrassment. Mimi giggled. "Roger eats his crayons!"

"Be quiet!"

"Roger eats his crayyyyyyons, Roger eats his crayyyyyons!" Tom taunted.

"Shut up, Tom! You eat one and see why I like them!"

Tom stuck out his tongue. "Eew. I ain't eatin' no crayon!"

"You mean they taste good?" Angel asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, Angie, try one." Roger held up a blue crayon.

Angel shook his head. "No thanks."

Mark and Maureen were the only ones who hadn't talked yet. Then Roger had to yet again open his big mouth.

"Hey Maureen. Where'd you get that flower?"

_Uh-oh. Maureen, don't say nothin'...Don't tell Rog...Don't tell him._

"Marky gave it to me," Maureen said happily, and loudly enough so that some of the kids at other tables looked at the flower and then at Mark.

"Mark...you gave Maureen a flower?" Roger stared at Mark.

"Um...yeah."

"OH MY GOSH! SAPPY!" Roger pretended to fall over in his chair. Tom laughed.

"What's sappy mean?" Mimi asked, completely clueless.

Roger sighed. "It's when something's really lovey-dovey and stupid. Duh."

"Don't be mean, Roger," Angel said. He turned to Maureen. "I think it's nice that Marky gave you a flower, Mo."

Maureen just nodded and stared off into space dreamily. Mark looked down at the floor, totally embarrassed.

"Mark, you're cheesie," Roger said flatly.

"Leave him alone!" cried Joanne. "You're a meanie-head, Rog."

"I know," Roger snickered. Mark was still looking down.

"Well..." Maureen said, her voice rising even louder, "You wish you could get a flower from Marky!"

Roger burst out laughing. "Why would I want a flower from Mark?" It was Maureen's turn to hush up now. At this point there was no need for words. She grabbed a crayon and threw it at Roger.

"OW! That hurt! What did you do that for?"

"'Cause you're a dummy," Angel answered for her, throwing another crayon in Roger's direction. Soon the entire group started to playfully throw crayons at a very angry Roger.

"Hey—ow! Stop!"

Mark just smirked. "You said you _liked_ eatin' crayons! So eat 'em!"

Roger just threw a crayon back at Mark.

Mrs. T looked up from her desk. "Would you children at the red table please stop throwing crayons before I send every one of you to the corner?"

"Yes, Mrs. Tibbs..." they mumbled.

Before he started working again, Mark looked up at Maureen, who smiled at him. Maybe deciding to give the flower to Maureen Johnson hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

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**Like it? Hate it? Let me know. And also, I'm semi-stumped as far as ideas for the next chapter (I say 'semi' because I have a few ideas going around in my crazy mind, but they're incomplete ones, if you know what I mean), so suggestions would be great.**


	12. The Four Leaf Clover Expedition

**A/N: I'd like to thank the reviewer More Like Fiction Each Day for the base of the idea for this chapter. In her review, she stated that she'd like the next chapter to be about St. Patrick's Day and four leaf clovers...and I thought that it was a great idea. Thank you very much, honey! -gives Amelia a basket full of cookies- R&R, guys, and enjoy!

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In March, Mark Cohen and his friends learned about the four-leaf clover.

"All right, children! Go to your seats, please." Mark looked up from the rug as Mrs. Tibbs picked up a packet of green construction paper and waited as her students shuffled around to get to their seats. Once everyone was settled, she began to speak again.

"Does anyone here know what a clover is?"

Mark didn't have the faintest idea.

A kid at the yellow table raised his hand. "Yes, Johnny?"

"It's a green thing," Johnny replied, rubbing his nose. Mrs. T smiled.

"Well, yes, it _is_ green. Very good." Then Mrs. T went on to explain what a clover was, and that supposedly, one that had four leaves instead of three represented good luck. She talked about some guy named St. Patrick, and by then, Mark had lost interest, as had the rest of his friends at the table.

"Now, what I want you all to do is, with your scissors, cut out the four-leaf clover that I have traced for you and make decorations on it with your crayons and markers and pencils. I will pass out some green and silver glitter around the tables to use as well."

The glitter part made Angel smile.

"If you like, you can even make a smiling face on your clover. But make sure the clover stays green. Don't color the full clover any other color. Does anyone have any questions?"

There was silence in reply except for the shuffling of children getting out their Art Boxes.

"Good. Do I have any special volunteers who would like to pass out the green clovers?" Mrs. T asked. A shot of hands went up.

"It's very nice that everyone is willing to help!" Mrs. T said, her voice high-pitched. "Hmm...who hasn't handed out papers in a while...Joanne and Raymond have kindly volunteered to hand out the papers."

Joanne happily hopped up from her seat and ran over to Mrs. Tibbs. Roger pouted. "I wanted to do the papers..." he muttered.

* * *

Once all the construction paper was handed out, the children began to work on their four-leaf clovers. Mark cut out his clover slowly and carefully, making sure that when it had been fully cut out that it at least looked somewhat decent. He found it impossible to use scissors, yet at home when Cindy would work on projects and such, she was able to cut out things so perfectly. It amazed Mark. When he was finished, he looked over his cut-out. Besides a few ragged edges and a tiny cut in the second leaf, it didn't look half bad. He smiled and grabbed one of his crayons. Before he began to color, he looked at the rest of his friends' four-leaf clovers. Angel's, of course, looked the shiniest. He'd already added tons of glitter to his clover. Mrs. Tibbs was walking around the room to look at her students' progress with the clovers and stopped when she saw Angel's clover.

"Why, Angelo, that's a very pretty clover. I notice you like to use glitter a lot with your art projects. Why is that?"

Angel blinked. "Because it's shiny?"

Mrs. Tibbs stared down at Angel, then at the clover, then back at Angel again. She looked at the rest of the children's clovers at the table briefly and walked away. Mark looked at Angel, who hadn't been the least bit phased by the exchange with his teacher and had decided to sprinkle even more glitter on the clover. Mimi's clover had glitter on it, and she had drawn a smiling face with eyelashes on it and blue eyes. Joanne's didn't have a face on it, but was very decorative with various different colors from markers and crayons exploding on it. Maureen had glue all over hers, but she apparently thought it was the most amazing clover in the world, because she was smiling proudly all the while she was working on it. While coloring, Mark glanced at Tom's four-leaf clover. Tom was drawing designs very carefully on his clover and staring down at the paper intently. And Roger's...Mark just _had_ to ask.

"Rog, how come your clover is mad?" Mark stared at the frowning clover that belonged to Roger.

"'Cause it found out it ain't lucky no more," Roger said flatly.

"I thought four-leaf clovers were always lucky," said Maureen.

Roger shrugged. "Mine ain't. Not anymore. That's why it's mad."

"That's stupid," Tom mumbled. Roger looked up at Tom. "No it ain't!"

Tom didn't answer. He just kept drawing. Angel looked up from his extremely colorful clover to look at Tom. "What's wrong, Tom?"

"Nothin'," he replied. "Roger's being a dummy."

"What? It's _my_ clover, I can do what I want!" Roger cried defensively.

"Don't yell!" Tom said back.

"You're a dummy, Tom. You're clover's stupid."

"Aw, Roger, that was mean!" Mimi said. Tom looked down at his clover. Angel put his arm around Tom reassuringly. "I love your four-leaf clover, Tom! It's pretty! And you're not a dummy."

Tom managed a smile. After a few moments of silence, Mark said, "I wonder if four-leaf clovers are really lucky."

Roger shook his head. "I bet they ain't."

"I bet they are!" Joanne said. This gave Mark an idea.

* * *

Mark ventured away from the rest of the group during recess time and went along the sides of the playground where there was a little bit of grass and shrubs in front of the fence. And Mark was very happy when he saw a bunch of clovers on the ground. He got down on his hands and knees and started looking for the magic green clover with four leaves. He heard footsteps approaching him.

"Mark, what are you doing? Playing pretend? I wanna be the dog! No fair!" Roger cried.

"I'm not playin' pretend. I'm lookin' for four-leaf clovers."

"Oh, _come_ _on_!"

"Ooh!" Maureen squealed, "I wanna help!" She knelt down beside Mark and started looking. Soon all of the bohemian friends, with the exception of Roger, were on the ground looking for four-leaf clovers.

"I found one!" Mimi shouted. Everyone looked at her excitedly. "Oh...Wait...that's only three. Sorry."

Eventually, Roger finally joined them on the ground.

"Aw, fine, you guys are no fun. But since you still don't got any yet, I guess I gotta help you..." he said. They spent the entire rest of recess searching for four-leaf clovers. When the bell rang for them to come back inside, none of them even heard it. Mrs. T called for them but they still didn't hear. She told the rest of the class to wait in their lines and walked over to them.

"Mark, Roger, Mimi, Angelo, Tom, Maureen, and Joanne! _What_ are you all doing? Please get in line!" Her voice was stern.

"We were looking for four-leaf clovers, Mrs. T!" Tom said, looking up at her from his kneeling position on the ground. Mrs. T's expression softened. And then she smiled.

"I see," she said. She laughed quietly for a moment, and then turned back to them. "Now hurry on to the line! Quickly! Your classmates are waiting!"

As Mark got up from the ground and began to walk to the line, he looked back at the small patch of grass longingly, and then down at his hands, pretending that a lucky four-leaf clover was right in the palm of his hand.


	13. The Angels are Crying

**A/N: Yet again, thank you for the wonderful reviews. After this chapter, there will only be a couple more chapters left before I begin the sequel. Woot!

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Mark stared out the window at the pouring rain. March had come and gone and it was now about halfway through April. There had been a lot of rain over the past week, which meant 'Indoor Recess' at recess time instead of going outside to play. This had caused the entire class to be overcome by extreme boredom, and attention spans were growing shorter during class. Now, as everyone sat at their desks coloring, it was raining yet again, and it was getting a certain Roger Davis very frustrated.

"Aww, come on, why does it gotta rain _again_ today?" he groaned. He looked around the table at his friends, who were just as upset about this as he was.

"Well," Angel said, trying to brighten up the dreary atmosphere that Roger—and, of course, the rain—had brought about, "My mommy says when it rains it's 'cause the angels are sad up there." He pointed upward.

"Well the angels have gotta be real _deplessed_ up there, 'cause they won't stop cryin'," Mark replied.

"What's _deplessed_ mean?" Mimi asked.

"Really sad," Tom said, grabbing a green crayon.

Mimi blinked. "Oh. Tom, you're so smart!"

"Yeah, I know."

"My dad always says 'April showers bring May flowers'," Joanne said happily. "But I dunno what that means anyway. But he's sayin' it a lot lately when it's rainin'."

"What does takin' a shower have to do with raining?" Maureen asked loudly. Tom, who had been lost in thought, decided to put his two cents in.

"Maybe," he said, talking in a low and serious tone, "It means that if you take a shower in April, you're gonna get a flower in May..."

"I like taking baths better. 'Cause the rubber ducky can float in the water," said Mark. "If you're takin' a shower, the ducky don't float."

"But don't you wanna get flowers in May, Marky?" asked Joanne. Mark just shrugged.

"Or maybe it's about April over there," Roger observed, pointing to his ex-best-friend April Ericsson, who was sitting at another table. Mimi quickly replied to that:

"No, it's got nothin' to do with_ that _April." She gave an annoyed glance in April's direction.

"Oooh! Mimi's_ jellis _of April!" Angel giggled. "'Cause she plays with Roger!"

"I am not _jellis_!" protested Mimi. "Anyway, Roger plays with _me_ now!"

"Huh?" Roger, who had been putting pieces of crayon in his mouth, had completely missed out on what was going on.

"Forget it, Rog."

* * *

Later, during recess time, the group of friends ran over to the window, as it was still raining.

"Hey, angels, stop cryin'!" Roger said loudly. As he wasn't tall enough to stand right in front of the window, he had to keep jumping up and down and yelling. Angel looked at him.

"I'm not crying!" he said.

"I'm talkin' to the ones in the sky, dummy," Roger replied, rolling his eyes. To his dismay, it just kept on raining. "But it ain't workin'. I wonder what they're so sad about anyhow..."

"Well, maybe they get sad about stuff that we get sad about, too," Maureen suggested. "I cried when I dropped my lollipop yesterday. Maybe one of the angels dropped a lollipop and it fell through those big ol' clouds back down onto the ground or somethin'..."

"Or maybe one of them tripped on a cloud and got _hurted_," said Tom.

"Maybe one of them has one of their wings broked!" cried Joanne. The children began chattering about all the possibilities about why the angels could be crying, when Roger interrupted them.

"Well they gotta stop cryin' some day. They can't keep cryin' forever."

"I can do that," said Maureen. Everyone looked at her blankly for a moment as she twirled her hair innocently. Then their conversation resumed once more.

"Well maybe instead of yellin' at them," Mimi said thoughtfully, "We could try to make them feel better! Then maybe they'll stop cryin'!"

"Yeah!" Angel agreed happily. He stood on tiptoe in front of the window. "Hello, Angels," he called, "We know you're real sad, and we wanna make you feel better!"

"If you dropped your lollipop," advised Maureen to the window, "You can always get somethin' yummier from the candy jar in the kitchen..."

"Who says that angels got kitchens up there?" Roger asked.

"Well, I bet they do!" Maureen cried. Soon the group of friends were shouting to the window various little tidbits from their imaginations that they truly thought would help these angels in their particular unfortunate situations.

"And if you broked your wing, you can go to the doctor angel to fix it!"

"If you tripped you can always get a Band-Daid!"

They went on and on when suddenly, out of the blue, the rain stopped, and out came the bright sun! The entire class began to cheer.

"We did it!" Tom cried, "The angels stopped crying!"

"I knew it would work," said Mimi, smiling. "It was better than yelling at them, wasn't it _Roger_?"

"Whatever..." Roger muttered. Mimi giggled and grabbed onto his arm.

"Only kidding, Rog!" she said happily. Roger couldn't help but smile back at her.

"We should do this next time it rains," Mark said. Everyone agreed. Benny walked over to them.

"How come you guys were yelling at the window?" he asked.

"To stop the angels from crying, silly. Duh!" Joanne said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And with that, the ran away, leaving a very confused Benjamin Coffin III staring after them.


	14. Bye Bye, Kindergarten

**A/N: This is it, guys. THE LAST CHAPTER. I know, I said I'd do a COUPLE more chapters after chappie #13, but to be honest, I don't want this thing to run on forever. I am also very aware that I skipped devoting a chapter to the month of May, and that is only because I didn't want the same old thing and for you guys to be kinda sick of it. I wanna thank all you guys for reviewing, and look out for the sequel! I dunno about you guys, but when I was in kindergarten I got a certificate for achievement and passing into first grade or whatever at the end of the year. We had this little "Kindergarten Ceremony". So I'm not making this stuff up. Just clarifying that. Thanks again to all of you who reviewed all this time! Sequel is on its way!**

**FINAL DISCLAIMER OF ALL 14 CHAPTERS: I do not own any of the RENT characters (but I do own their personalities in 5-year-old form). Jonathan Larson owns RENT.

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May flew by and June began, and Mrs. Tibbs' kindergarten class was already happily awaiting summer vacation.

"My daddy's gonna get me and Cindy a pool," Mark said proudly.

"I don't like swimmin' in pools. You get all wet," complained Maureen.

Roger glared at Maureen."You're supposed to get wet, dummy, it's a pool!"

"But what if it's a pool with no water in it?"

"How do you get a pool with no water in it, Mo? The water comes with the pool!"

"No it doesn't, Roger!"

"Mrs. T says we're gettin _certinficates _on the last day of school!" Joanne said, changing the subject before Roger and Maureen could fight anymore.

"What's a _certinficate_?" Mimi asked.

Tom sighed. "It's a piece of paper. With your name on it. And you get it on the last day if you was good all year."

Angel clapped happily. "I was good all year!"

"Me too!" cried Joanne.

"I was good _almost_ all year..." Mark said, thinking back at the spider incident back in September.

"Yeah, me too, Marky," Maureen confessed. The group of children began to chatter about who was going to get this '_certinficate_' and who wasn't. And that was when Roger started to feel uneasy.

"Um...guys...do you think I'm gonna get a _certinficate_?" he asked, nervously breaking bits of crayon and drawing on his hands, even though the colors didn't show up.

"I dunno," Tom said, "Were you good?"

Roger thought for a moment. "Nope." Realizing what his answer had been, a worried expression appeared on his face.

Angel giggled, "Roger isn't gonna get a _certinficate_ 'cause he's a baaaaaaad boy!"

"Be quiet, Angie. I bet _youuu_ won't get a certinficate!"

"Why?" gasped Angel.

"'Cause...'cause...you wore stuff on your nails!"

Angel looked hurt for a moment, and then grew quiet. Tom automatically reacted by putting an arm around his friend. Mimi, rather, put a hand on Roger's shoulder.

"It's ok, Roger, I bet you'll get a _certinficate_!" She smiled at him. He shrugged and continued drawing with his crayons—and, to the children's utter disgust—stuffed them in his mouth.

* * *

All Mark Cohen could understand as far as the last day of school was concerned was that his name would be called and Mrs. Tibbs would hand him a piece of paper (as Tom had said! Mark wished he could know everything like Tom did) rolled up like a telescope and then the rest of the day would go by and he could go home. And that was basically what had happened. But only when he and his friends received their certificates did they realize that Tom had been wrong for once.

Out of his group of friends, Mark had been called up first to get his certificate. He went up and got it and sat back down in the small auditorium where the soon-to-be first graders and their parents had gathered. As he was walking, everyone had started clapping and it was getting Mark quite confused. He glanced at his parents, way in the back, and actually could see his mother crying.

He plopped himself next to Angel, who said, "Yay, Marky!" and gave him a hug, "You were good all year!"

The next name that was called surprised the bohemian kiddies.

"Roger Davis," Mrs. T said. Maureen gasped dramatically, Joanne smiled and ushered Roger to get up so he could get his certificate, Mimi hugged Roger, Mark clapped, Angel squealed, and Tom stared, wide-eyed. Roger casually walked up to his teacher and got his certificate and proudly headed back to his seat.

"I guess I ain't that bad then," he said, smirking. "Everyone gotted one!"

After everyone's names had been called, the children wandered around to find their parents. Once they had done so, they found their little cliques of friends once again.

"Guys!" Mark cried, running over to his friends, "Guess what my mommy just told me?"

Roger blinked. "_What_ did your mommy tell you?"

"The _certinficate_ doesn't mean you were good all year, it means you're goin' to first grade and that you achieved stuff!"

"What does achieved mean?" asked Joanne.

Mark shrugged. "I dunno. But that's what my mommy told me. So Roger, you woulda _getted_ one even if you were bad."

"YAY!" Roger shouted.

"Tom was wrong," Maureen said flatly. Tom just shrugged.

When it was time for everyone to leave, Maureen dramatically hugged all of her friends.

"I'll miss you guys!" she cried loudly. Roger rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, Mo, we'll prolly see each other in the summer!" he muttered.

"Oh, yeah...BUT I WANNA HUG YOU ANYWAY!"

They all hugged each other, and, of course, Angel gave Tom the biggest hug.

"Ouch...um...Angie, you're...OW!...Can't...breathe..."

Angel quickly broke away. "Sorry!"

"That's okay."

Roger awkwardly let everyone hug him, and when Mimi gave him a hug, she couldn't help but ask:

"Aren't you gonna hug me back?"

Roger looked at her like she had six heads. Hug her _back_? Was she insane?

But he hugged her back. And he looked her in the eye, and smiled.

* * *

As he was walking out the door, holding each of his parents' hands, a pang of sadness hit Mark's heart. He would truly miss being with his friends every day that summer. Yes, he was sad, but at the same time he was happy. He was in _first grade _now! As far as he knew all of his friends were coming back the next year, and he would be able to experience the joy of being a first grader with them. He looked back at the school one last time before getting in the car.

_Bye-bye, kindergarten._

And with that, he sat in the car and waved to the school as they drove away.

**-FIN-**


End file.
